Afternoon Delight
by RosyPaths
Summary: Just a short Cain x Riff fic I wrote.


Disclaimer: I do not own Count Cain or GodChild, Kaori Yuki does, but the new plot is mine.

* * *

"Riff." The sound of the sharp word drifted across the silent calm air around him. There was no answer.

A minute passed by as the young man with jet black hair sighed to himself, scribbling down the last notes on his report for the magazine about the newest murder cases. It was a tiresome hobby when no one who really understood what he was writing about read it. Nobody really shared his enthusiasm about poisons… but even just the tiniest sniff of it could destroy your nervous system, and a drop on your drink at the local party just down the road to celebrate your friend's birthday-

"You called." A voice penetrated his thoughts, snapping him from imagining the murder that had just taken place two days ago.

"You are late." He chided, turning his eyes back to the paper before setting it away for the ink to dry. He examined the drop of ink that had fallen from the pen in his distracted mind state, smeared onto the table underneath. The young man took a look at his hands, hissing out from between his teeth upon seeing the black traces of the ink on his palm that had rested on the table absentmindedly.

Before he could complain a pair of hands took control of his dirtied appendage, a white handkerchief starting to wipe away the staining. The cloth felt slick, and it was dampened by some liquid that smelled rather strong.

"Really…" The young man breathed out, glancing at the bottle of whiskey placed on the side table. Its lid was off. "You intend to use our best drinks for this?"

"Forgive me, Lord Cain." The tall but thin male replied. His long bony fingers were warm against the younger one's skin and when they accidentally brushed against his master's wrist, they sent a surge of tingles running across the younger's arm.

"You couldn't go and fetch some proper stain removal from downstairs?" The Lord asked, eyes staring at the hands working on him. He had the urge to lean in closer and nuzzle his cheek against those hands.

"Lord Cain…" The butler let out, his voice hesitant when his master did indeed make true of his intentions.

"Hmmn..?" The young black haired man hummed in question, having closed his eyes and clasped one of those big, long fingered hands into his, rested the side of his face against that lovely hand.

"If you are feeling tired, then perhaps a nap?" The butler suggested.

The master huffed, straightening his back as he pulled away. "Do I look sleepy?" He then demanded, putting off airs. "Just get me something to eat, I'm hungry." The young master then requested, standing up from his chair. He was tall, but Riff was taller. His face had the boyish charm, almost pretty enough to pass as a female should he wish so while Riff's was more of a masculine look. Sometimes he envied the other for that.

Riff looked like a man while he… always looked so young.

"Hurry." He snapped, starting to get to a foul mood.

* * *

"May I ask what is bothering you, Master Cain?"

Cain just stared at his food, slowly bringing a forkful to his mouth and chewing even slower before swallowing. "I was thinking of the murder." He then muttered out, not lifting his face from the food.

"I got a clue earlier on."

Cain lifted his gaze.

"The police are investigating it; they might be able to catch the culprit tonight."

The sound of the utensils clattering against the plate and the chair was pushed back echoed in the room, Cain's face vivid as he glared at his butler.

"You give the clue to the officers instead of me?"

"Master Cain, it was for the best-"

But Cain had no patience for such words that day. He irritably pushed past his butler and towards the door.

"Where are you going Master?" The silver haired employee asked with alarm in his voice. He never got alarmed by anything.

"Out. And you are not allowed to follow me." Cain sneered, slamming the door shut as he went.

* * *

_Since when does my own staff betray me like this?_

The irritable frown was still on place as he sat in the bar, sipping at the drink he had ordered, a hooked by his side although he barely paid any attention to her. She was still a nice distraction, trying to feed him peanuts every now and then while trying to suggest they could always go somewhere more private should he wish so.

He stared at the glass, looking at the liquid. He glanced up at the suddenly rather lonesome bar. As he got up he tried to appear his normal self, but he didn't get to the door until he started to stagger in his steps. Cursing inside his head, he made it to the street where he was already being waited for. A tall figure dressed in a black cape, leather gloves on, a hat. It was a man. He was waiting for him. It was a trap.

But couldn't do anything before a carriage rushed by him, a pair of strong arms reaching for him. He was yanked up from his feet to the moving carriage, pulled into it, the door snapping closed and keeping the chilly air away.

Cain faintly registered being held, and the vial that was pressed to his lips. He tasted the bitter liquid, realizing it was one of his makings.

His eyes were fluttering closed from the effects of the poison, but he did manage to a blurry image of the worried man who held him close.

* * *

"You gave everyone quite a scare."

Cain kept his eyes closed. He could feel himself in his bed, all the smells and the sounds and the texture of the covers pointed to that conclusion. He also recognized the voice.

"It might be too late… I hoped to have arrived in time."

The person leaned in closer, he could feel it.

"How many fingers am I holding up, Master Cain?"

That was when he realized he was already staring at the world with wide open eyes. Just that there was no image left for his eyes to see.

There was a silence as he butler backed away. Cain bit his lips, closing his eyes.

_You're not allowed to cry for me._

* * *

Cain had barely spoken in the first two days. The darkness felt unbearable at first, but most of his stubbornness was from the knowledge he had brought this upon himself.

Riff had been hovering around him a lot at first, but the he had sent him away to do his duties. Despite wanting to keep the rumors in, the word had already spread out about the murder attempt. The city knew he was sick and resting at home.

_The devil's son, escaping death_

Cain puffed his cheeks in an effort to keep the enraged cry that was just about to leave him at bay. In his disturbed state he failed to feel where he was going and slipped on the bathroom floor.

He must have laid there for an hour before Riff came to rescue him, soothing his large bony hand up and down his back with reassuring murmurs that it was okay to cry.

* * *

"Riff?"

"Yes, Lord Cain?" The butler's voice was always there. He was always there.

"I want you to stay. Here." Cain petted at the mattress next to him, his eyes staring at the darkness. "With me." He insisted.

"As you wish."

Cain listened as the man went to sit onto a chair near the bed. "No. Here." He patted at the bed again, stubborn. "I want you to sleep here."

_Like when I was a kid and you comforted me._

Cain waited as Riff took his time. Eventually the older yielded though. Cain held his breath as he felt the bed dip under the weight as the man settled there next to him, keeping a little distance Cain dismissed as he curled up against the man's side.

"Have you been sleeping at all, young master?"

"No…" Cain sighed, burrowing closer to the male. He pressed his face against the man's chest, inhaling the familiar, calming scent. "I'm sorry…"

"No, I'm sorry for letting this happen to you." Riff sighed out, sounding sad about it. He was, after all, responsible for Cain. "It saddens me to see you this way."

Cain was silent for a moment, tensing up after he heard those words. Was he only good as long as he was perfect?

He decided to ignore it, closing his eyes to settle in for the night.

"But I could never love you any less." The whispered words traveled to his ears and he wasn't quite sure anymore if they were real or if he had conjured them up on the edges of dream.

* * *

Something was wrong.

Cain listened to the footsteps.

He felt Riff slip away from the bed, gently as if not trying to wake him up. Forcing himself to stay looking like he was still asleep, Cain waited. He barely heard the door. He had no idea anymore where Riff was.

He almost startled when he felt a hand trace his face. It wasn't Riff's touch. His heart rate escalated and he felt like a helpless, still blind kitten as the cold metal of the gun pressed to his head.

Only that the gun never went off.

What he hear was a splutter sound, followed by something warm and… wet… touching his skin. It smelled painstakingly at blood.

He could hear Riff panting, adrenaline high on his blood after the act of self defence. "Are you okay, Master Cain?"

Cain could barely nod.

* * *

Cain stood by the window, looking outside. It was daytime and Riff had left to handle affairs at the city. The killer was dead, thanks to them. He had been about to be the next victim of many to that person.

He felt a shadow shift against his face. A bird, flying past the window. Its wings flapped, blocking the sun momentarily.

He could see the blur as it passed.

He heard the door, but instead of dashing towards it, he chose to wait. Staring towards the staircase, he waited.

Riff arrived a little later, his tall frame coming to view. Cain saw the figure's steps falter and closed his eyes, turning back towards the window. He heard the soft, disappointed sigh that left the other.

Cain fought the flutter of excitement in his chest.

* * *

That night in bed, something that had become a routine for them after the two near death experiences, Cain kept sitting upright against the headboard. When Riff was ready, and joined him, he reached out for the man. Physical contact had become so much more valued, almost a normalcy after he had lost his sight.

"I want you to kiss me."

Riff halted one knee on the bed.

"If that would make everything bad disappear for a while for me, wouldn't you do it?" Cain asked, knowing how well he knew this game. Riff was so fond of him, and he was tired of wasting their lives living day by day as a master and a servant.

"Won't you take pity on me? I won't be able to make love to anyone anymore."

"That's not true, my Lord." Riff's voice fought his.

"Yes it is. I don't trust anyone I can't see." Cain argued back, calmly, reaching out to trace the man's arm, up to his neck.

"But you can't see me." Riff let out.

"I can see you in here." Cain replied in a murmur, smiling as he placed their entwined fingers over his heart.

The first kiss tasted faint, fleeting. The second one was better, fueled by anxiety for more. After the third kiss Cain felt like he had this far always been thirsty without knowing what water was.

He opened his eyes, seeing the man's face before him. The eyes were closed and there were bitter tears seeping past the long lashes. The lips were trembling and he was fisting the mattress in an effort to control his emotions.

Cain let the kiss linger, then slowly pulled back, watching as the man took another moment to collect himself. When he opened those sparkling and gleaming eyes, the crushed soul in them shining through, Cain decided he has never seen anything more beautiful.

"Y-your eyes…"

"Yes, but I can only see you when your this close to me." Cain murmured out, pressing their faces together, caressing the older one's jawline with his thumbs. "So don't get far away from me, you're the only light I see."


End file.
